


Left All Alone, Far From My Home

by revenblue



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Gen, Heinz is a very understanding nemesis, POV Second Person, Perry ends up falling asleep on Heinz's bed, Perry eventually gets his well-earned rest, Perry gets pulled away from his family holiday to go work, basically an AU of Where's Perry without the drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: "Excuse me, mister, we don't allow platypuses on the plane."
Relationships: Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn & Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	Left All Alone, Far From My Home

"Excuse me, mister, we don't allow platypuses on the plane."

You narrow your eyes, hidden from sight in your travel cage. That's Carl's voice, which means this is OWCA business, which means your nemesis is up to something. _Again_. His timing... could be better, to put it politely.

Less politely, he can fuck off with his schemes. At least for today.

How long has it been since you had a day off? Time to spend with your family, without any paperwork or nemesis to deal with.

"Not even pets?" Phineas, the louder of your owners and the brightest inventor you know, says. A pause, and you can imagine Carl's head shake, you've seen it enough when he has to reject your request for vacation. "But-"

"He's _family_." And there's Ferb, your other owner, the solid and steady engineer. Ferb's always there for you.

"Yeah! And we've already paid for his ticket." Your cage jostles as Phineas shifts, a motion you've grown familiar with over the years. He's still a kid, he forgets to be careful, so it's a good thing you can withstand a _lot_. Perks of being an agent. "How do you know he's a platypus, anyway?"

Another pause, one you can hear the hesitation in as Carl searches for an excuse. "Platypus sense?" he tries, and even you don't believe that. "It's on your ticket." He needs to work on his excuses. "He's still not allowed on the plane."

Phineas sets your cage down, crouching by the grate at the end. "Sorry boy," he says, "guess you can't come after all."

You let out a whine, and not just for show. Today's scheme had better be worth it.

* * *

It was not worth it.

* * *

Heaving a sigh, you let yourself back into the empty house. So much for your promised time off. Every time, you get called back in _anyway_. You'd make a formal complaint if you thought it would _do_ anything.

At least there's no one to notice when you disappear for the day. Just Stacy coming over to feed you in the mornings, because no one else could manage on such short notice, and _she_ already _knows_ where you go. She's left another bowl of food out for the evening too, so you settle in and eat.

Once you're done, you wander upstairs with a yawn, pushing the door open with your bill, the way you do every night. Time to choose which bed to curl up on first. They still _smell_ of your owners, at least.

But, you find, as you turn circles on the blankets, paws flattening a hollow for you to curl up in for the night, they don't _sound_ like your owners. There's no comforting sound of two boys breathing to lull you to sleep tonight. Slumping onto the fabric anyway, you sigh, missing them fiercely.

A second later you're back up and turning.

Night isn't the same without the two of them. Or Candace, for that matter. You care about her too, and you think it's mutual, even if she refuses to recognise it. And sure, you may not be the nicest to her either, but _she_ started it. Not your fault if she gets what she gives.

You'd even take her and her antagonism over this silence. The silence that, in your experience, brings out the worst from your subconscious, nightmares that leave you tossing and turning until morning. Or, more likely, until your watch buzzes on your wrist. Without your family's welcoming presence, how are you supposed to get the rest you need to thwart your nemesis tomorrow? Especially without the time off.

Then again, if you go there _now_ , you might be able to get a head start on the thwarting. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

This was not the plan. This didn't even _resemble_ the plan.

You'd used your key again, like earlier today, and walked to your nemesis's bedroom in case he was up _scheming_. It's happened before. You swear he barely sleeps, with the inators he presents to you day after day. To _night_ , you find him snoring softly, oddly peaceful, a massive change from how animated he is while awake.

Why did you come here again? All you are is _more tired_ , so you let instinct guide you onto his bed, tucking yourself behind his knee. You'll deal with the consequences later.

* * *

"Perry the Platypus?"

A finger jabs into your side and you growl, batting at it with your paw, still on edge from the expected nightmare. No matter how many times it replays in your head, you'll still never be used to the one where your family are taken from you forever, which always hits hardest when you're away from them. One more reason you wish you could be with them instead.

"No really, Perry the Platypus," your nemesis continues, prodding you again, "are you okay? You were making these _noises_..."

Your nemesis.

There's the consequences, right on schedule. You should have fucking known.

Groaning, you burrow deeper into the blankets, away from his sharp finger. He's the last person you want to see right now. Bad enough you slept on his bed, you don't need to tell him the things that keep you up at night too.

He pulls you free anyway and rolls you onto your back, _trapping_ you with the force of his gaze. "So are you going to explain what you're doing in my _bed_ , Perry the Platypus? Not that I _mind_ -" He swallows, like he had something more to say on that subject, a direction you might have wondered more about if you'd been at all interested in having this conversation in the first place. "-but it's not _like_ you."

All you can do is shake your head in answer. No, you won't explain yourself. No, it's not like you. No, you don't know why you did it.

" _Fine_ , then, be that way," he sighs, letting you up. "Since you're _here_ , and I don't have my _scheme_ ready, what do you want for breakfast? Don't look at me like that, I treat my _guests_ well, even if you _are_ imposing. It's... well, I don't get much _company_ around here, just... just _you_ , and I didn't go to _culinary_ school to cook for _one_ all the time."

As he reaches for you again, you flinch back, before realising he's just _offering_ his hand for you to take, his fingers twitching from the usual quiet energy he always exudes. He's not _trying_ to hurt you.

That he _did_ , yesterday, you're still mad at him for. Even though it's probably your superior's fault. You _know_ there are other agents Major Monogram _could_ have sent in your place, like Agent S, so why was it so important for _you_ to thwart Doctor D? What can _you_ do that another agent couldn't?

Take his hand, for one. You hadn't _planned_ to, but by the time you notice you did, it's too late, he's got your paw in a firm grip. Letting out a sigh, you resign yourself to your fate.

* * *

He would have let go, if you'd asked.

* * *

In the end, the only reason he drops your paw is so he can use both hands to cook. Still in his nightclothes, he dances around the kitchen, rambling to himself, occasionally asking you to pass him something. It would almost be comfortable if he wasn't your nemesis.

* * *

Setting his hands on your shoulders, he guides you out into the dining room. "Behold," he says, "breakfast."

When he'd first suggested _breakfast_ , you hadn't realised he'd go to _this_ much effort, filling the whole table with plate after plate of food like he's feeding twenty instead of a man and a platypus.

"So," he says, taking a seat across the table from you, hands clasped. "What's this all about, huh? Go on, _eat_ , I can't have my _nemesis_ going _hungry_. I mean, you seemed really _off_ yesterday when you were _thwarting_ me, did something happen?" His knuckles whiten. "My fault?"

Yes, you want to tell him. But not deliberately. You push some cereal around its bowl with a spoon, avoiding his eyes. All _he_ did, all he _ever_ does, is scheme. Did he even know you'd asked for the day off?

From the way he squirms in his seat, barely touching his own food, no, no he did not. "It was supposed to be your day off? And no one told _me_? I know I don't get much _company_ \- other than you, I mean - but I don't need your _pity_ -" At your glare, he deflates. "That's not it, is it?"

You shake your head. While you don't have the words to describe how you feel about your nemesis, you're certain _pity_ isn't one of them.

"Now that I think about it, I can't remember the last time you took a day off at all. You're _always_ here to thwart me, which I guess is _impressive_ , but also kind of _worrying_. I mean, _I_ can't always have a _scheme_ , but you're better than me at everything else, so maybe you just don't need breaks? No, that can't be it, otherwise you wouldn't have needed _yesterday_ off- Does this happen a lot? Working _on your day off_?"

Too often.

Groaning, he pushes his own plate away so he can thump his head on the table. "Why doesn't anyone _tell_ me these things? All this time, I thought this was _your_ choice, not- And _look_ at you, you're _exhausted_!" He lifts his head, gesturing in your direction. "How are you supposed to _thwart_ me when you don't get a chance to _rest_?"

You're used to it. Demands of the job, can't be helped, that's what Major Monogram always says. Usually from the desk he spends most of the day sleeping at, before leaving early. He calls it _leading by example_.

Somehow, you doubt _he_ has to put up with nightmares. Or the long hours you have to work.

"Especially if you get _nightmares_ ," he says with a frown. "Don't tell me that's not what it was, either, I know what a _nightmare_ looks like. Believe me, I _know_. I don't know how often you _get_ them, but probably a _lot_ if you're anything like me, unless it was just from being somewhere unfamiliar? To sleep in, I mean."

None of his business. He's still your nemesis, even if he _does_ make an effort to understand you. Sometimes. More often than you're comfortable with, after your training.

O.W.C.A. policy is clear: take your secrets to your grave.

And yet here he is, your nemesis, tempting you into honesty with his worried eyes and uncertain smile. You let out a sigh.

As much as you appreciate his company, and you _do_ , you'd still rather be with your family right now. It's nothing he's done. You don't often get to spend time with them, and when Carl had approved the time off, you'd expected...

In all honesty, you'd expected a last-minute crisis to get in the way. Doesn't make it hurt any less.

"So what you're saying is," he says as he sits up, an odd expression on his face, "you're _lonely_ , and _that's_ why you came here. And... curled up on my bed last night? Which is _weird_ , but the point is, I didn't know you _got_ lonely, Perry the Platypus."

There's a lot he doesn't know. Things you keep hidden, because _you're_ supposed to be the strong one, protecting everyone else. You make so many sacrifices for the sake of the Tri-State Area, and you've always done it alone. Who else _is_ there? No one, not _really_. One of those sacrifices is that you can't ever tell him about your family. Not because he'd hurt them - which he _wouldn't_ , he's not that sort of man - but because the chance of him saying the wrong thing and inadvertently costing you your relationship with them is too high.

He reaches a hand out, palm up, and you take it without thinking. "Yeah, I know, you're closed off," he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "I don't know why I'm so _surprised_. I guess I thought you had _other_ friends to talk to, and didn't _need_ me, even after- Is _that_ why you took me back? You didn't _have_ anyone else? No, that's not quite it," he murmurs to himself, frowning. "You... care about someone else, and can't always spend time with them - because you're _here_ \- and you made _plans_ for yesterday, but, well... You _didn't_ get the day off after all. Does that about sum it up?"

Sometimes it's disconcerting how well he understands you, despite his obliviousness. He's your _nemesis_. But here he is, the only person you can talk to as an equal and have any chance of being heard.

"And you came _here_ to ask _me_ to fix it," he finishes, looking proud of himself.

Letting out a sigh, you nod. He's _wrong_ , that's not why you're here, but he makes a good point. What's the harm in letting down your guard and _trusting_ him? Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the last.

He grins, leaning across the table, elbows conveniently missing every single dish he'd laid out for you. "Great! So, what do you need?"

* * *

Adjusting the settings on the latest of his many teleportation-themed inators - you couldn't bring yourself to suggest the using Go Home-inator this time - he glances over at you one more time. "You're _sure_ that's where your _friend_ is going to be?"

You tighten your grip on the travel brochure you'd shown him, the one you've held onto ever since the trip was announced. That's where Ferb and Phineas are.

"Just making sure," he says, and shrugs. How does he know you so well? "I mean, I don't want you to end up in the wrong place, because then _Francis_ will blame _me_ , can you believe that? Every time something goes wrong, he thinks it's _my_ fault. Like, sure, I don't _mind_ taking credit for doing something _Evil_ , but I want it to be _deliberate_ , you know?"

If Major Monogram complains about this, you'll file a report absolving your nemesis of any wrongdoing. _You_ chose to do this.

"It wouldn't be the same without _you_ here to thwart me, anyway," he adds, turning back to flip more switches. "Not that I'll be doing Evil while you're gone. It's the principle of the thing. _Any_ who. Are you ready?"

More than ready.

"Well, see you in a week, I guess." Waving you onto the mark he'd painted on the floor, he rests his hand on the last lever, glancing back one at you last time. "Bring me back a souvenir or something, will you? Or, you know, _call_ me, I know you have my _number_ \- Okay, fine, getting on with it. Hold onto your hat, Perry the Platypus, this could get bumpy. Three, two, one..."

* * *

As soon as the inator's light fades, you drop down on all fours, following the sound of laughter. Ferb and Phineas have always been easy to find. Whenever something big's happening, they're inevitably at the centre of it.

That's where you find them now. "Oh, there you are, Perry," Phineas says, as Ferb scoops you into his arms. "You know, for a platypus who doesn't do much, you're pretty great at crossing oceans. One more reason you're the best pet ever. We were about to pack up, but we have time for one more go, since you're here to enjoy it. We don't want you to miss out. Isn't that right, Ferb?"

Yawning, you settle into Ferb's comforting hold, barely able to keep your eyes open. You're _not_ missing out. While you always want to see what they've built, that's always been more of a bonus. Right now, you're, finally, _home_. What more could you ask for?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [And One](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRmNYWR3oGc) by Linkin Park. (A little dramatic overall, but this line at least fits.)
> 
> The original base for this idea came from an older draft of a canon-parallel AU (still unfinished), back when that part of the plot was far closer to Where's Perry than... *squints at current draft* Road To Danville, apparently. That, and a newer plotbun where Perry gets a nightmare and goes to snuggle with Heinz. Then I had to give it a new ending that makes sense for this version of the story, a process that involved a lot of screaming.


End file.
